


The Early Morning Hours

by leashy_bebes



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-30
Updated: 2011-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:04:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leashy_bebes/pseuds/leashy_bebes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Early morning fluff so sweet it might rot your teeth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Early Morning Hours

Arthur isn't sure what wakes him, because the sky outside is only just lightening towards grey, the sun's light not yet breaking over the horizon. It's just as peaceful inside, a few embers still glowing weakly in the grate, Merlin's soft, even breathing at his side, his hand splayed low on Arthur's belly. There's no reason to be awake yet, and Arthur just sets his hand on top of Merlin's, tangling their fingers together idly, stroking over Merlin's unreasonably slender digits and smiling as he's assaulted by memories. Merlin mutters in his sleep and shifts closer, fingers twitching under Arthur's.

"Impossible," Arthur says fondly, his voice loud in the hushed room. "You, this... Utterly impossible."

Merlin makes a little huffing noise and wriggles closer, as though telling Arthur exactly what he makes of that assessment. Arthur pushes himself up on his elbow, half turning to look at Merlin. The movement dislodges the hand Merlin had laid on Arthur's stomach and Merlin mutters in his sleep and tucks the hand under the pillow instead.

He is quite unreasonably beautiful like this, his face relaxed, his skin warm. Arthur feels like he could watch for hours, lose himself in the easy rhythm of Merlin's breath. His ribs are clearly visible with each inhale, and that always used to worry Arthur. Now he's seen that Merlin actually _does_ eat, and simply never gains an ounce, Arthur just teases him about the day when it will come back to haunt him in the form of a huge waist measurement and a food-splattered beard. Merlin usually retorts that, running around after Arthur, he'd never have chance to get fat.

Arthur strokes one finger slowly down the length of Merlin's spine, from the knob of bone at the back of his nape, to the slight swell of his backside. His skin is soft everywhere and lovely as it is, as he is, Arthur kind of wants Merlin to _wake up now_. So thinking, he presses himself closer to Merlin, deliberately shifting the bed. Sure enough, Merlin stirs and Arthur feels a flash of triumph as he kisses Merlin's shoulder. He opens one blue eye, looking at Arthur muzzily.

"Hello," Arthur says eventually, when Merlin doesn't venture anything.

"Hi," Merlin says, and then, "I fell asleep."

"Some time ago now," Arthur teases.

Merlin yawns, briefly turning his face back into the pillows. "Sorry about that."

Arthur waves a dismissive hand. "No need to apologise. I find I quite like waking up with you." He freezes when he realises what he's said, the depth of meaning that the words imply. Merlin just grabs Arthur's hand, kissing his fingertips, and giving him a sleepy smile, like such things are his due.

"So," Merlin says, his lips warm against Arthur's fingertips. "Do you want me to go and start work?"

"Hmm. I think... _not_ ," Arthur says definitely, ducking his head to kiss Merlin's cheekbone. He will want fresh water and food, but right now, he wants nothing but this. Certainly he is not about to turn Merlin's warm, pliant body out of bed in favour of getting his day underway in a timely fashion.

Merlin turns his head enough to kiss Arthur properly, his lips slightly chapped. The backs of Merlin's fingers brush against his cheek in a fleeting caress and Arthur smiles into the kiss, so brightly that they both dissolve into laughter, their foreheads pressed together. It's in moments like this that Arthur feels most in danger of saying something ridiculous, something like _I love you_. It's almost burst out of him before, in moments when horrible danger has passed, but sometimes like this, in stolen, innocent times like these, he finds that he really rather _wants_ to say it. Instead he tucks a lock of Merlin's hair behind his ear and touches the side of his throat, reverent.

Merlin dips his head to hide another yawn against Arthur's shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist and tugging him closer. Arthur lets himself be pulled on top of Merlin, resting his weight on his hands to lean down and drop kisses along Merlin's brow. Merlin just smiles and tips his head back, his lips catching on Arthur's chin as he moves.

"It's early," Merlin says, still a bit insensible.

Arthur mutters his agreement and curves his palm around the side of Merlin's face, captivated as ever by the strong angles of his jaw, his cheeks, the mobile, lightning-fast way that expressions play across his features. Merlin's hands settle lightly on his shoulders first, skittering down over his back, his sides, then up again, alternately tangling in his hair and smoothing it out. Sometimes Arthur is almost stunned by the easy intimacy with which Merlin touches him. People before have been anxious, reverent, too aware of the prince and not aware enough of the man's heart beating in his chest. Merlin doesn't even seem to notice, doesn't seem to think anything of the fact that their social stations are so far apart that it should be impossible to even consider this.

It's at just that moment that Merlin says, in between soft kisses to Arthur's top lip, "I like you."

He's always slow to wake in the mornings, and his words are unguarded, carefree, fond, and Arthur feels like his heart is swelling unbearably in his chest. He hides his face, drops a kiss to the hollow of Merlin's throat and whispers, "I like you, too."

The sun is starting to rise properly, but for now it's warm in bed, Merlin is soft and sleepy underneath him, and as far as Arthur is concerned, the world can wait.


End file.
